Kantai Collection: Russia Rising
by Da Ma-Niac
Summary: The Abyssals, a fleet of mysterious vessels rose up from the depths that destroyed every ship and coastal settlement they encountered. The preserved warships of the World War Two era of earlier of every nation rose up to fight them. This is the Russian side of the story, with shipgirls of the Imperial Russian Navy and Soviet Navy. Though shipgirl isn't quite the right word to use.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

 _Nobody knew when the Abyssals first attacked. Starting in 2026, reports of massive horrifying monsters made of black steel, taking the form of mutilated fish and octopi, attacking small fishing vessels and pleasure craft. The Abyssals are very large, with lengths ranging between one hundred and one hundred and fifty metres. Survivors were thought to be insane, suffering from PTSD._

 _In a time where the world was already teetering on the edge of all-out war between the Eastern and the Western powers, the news was not well received. Both sides accused each other of creating monstrous weapons and using them to kill civilians. It didn't take long before things escalated quickly. The warships of the East and West undertook regular patrols in the seas. By 2027, World War Three was about to begin as coast guard ships and small military ships joined the ranks of the missing._

* * *

A Kamov Ka-35 helicopter touches down on the helicopter deck of the warship after completing a patrol. The said warship is massive, stretching 252 metres overall and displacing 24,300 tons at full load. The Russian battlecruiser, _Pyotr Velikiy_ , a _Kirov_ – class battlecruiser. The largest surface combatants in the world, the class dated back to the days of the Soviet Union. After an extensive refit which ended in 2022, it packed a new nuclear reactor, the latest missiles, radars and even a railgun. The battlecruiser is dangerous enough on its own.

But _Pyotr Velikiy_ is not alone, for it lead a flotilla of the newest _Lider_ – class destroyers, along with older _Udaloy_ – class and _Sovremenny_ – class destroyers. The fleet cruised in the Barents Sea, in preparation to take on Norwegian naval forces which evaded the Russian submarines. The Russian Army has already massed in the Russian Far East and on the borders of the Baltic States.

Further south from them, Chinese warships cruised the East and South China Seas, holding the line against the US led coalition. The Chinese are unable to break the blockade, but China's One Belt One Road implemented, they can quickly bring in resources over land. Quite a few countries along the 21st century Silk Road were willing to contribute to the war, as they believed that America was the creator of the Abyssals. The fact that American ships were among the ones sunk failed to convince them otherwise. That and the fact that many Middle Eastern governments and terrorist groups are eager to see China and Russia deal a nasty blow to the West.

Captain 1st Rank Boris Sotnikov sat in the command chair, gazing through the windows of the bridge. Outside, snow fell, whipped up by the howling wind. Winter has arrived. The _Lider_ – class destroyer, _Neumolimyy_ , he commanded wasn't nearly as big as the mighty _Pyotr Velikiy,_ but at two hundred metres long and displacing 17,500 tons, it isn't small either. The nuclear powered destroyer packs two hundred vertical launch missiles and a railgun, along with other cannons.

" _All ships,"_ the Admiral on the flagship battlecruiser said, _"this is Admiral Kolchak. Word has it from Moscow that Washington declared war. The opening shots have already been fired in the South China Sea. This is it, men. World War Three has begun."_

A lieutenant leaned forward, "Captain. Your orders?"

Sotnikov looked up and announced into the intercom, "Men! You should all be in battle stations by now! Get the ships reactor output to eighty percent! Weapons, charger the railgun capacitors and unlock the missiles!"

Power surged from the reactors, rushing into all the systems of the ship. The railgun on the fore deck thrummed as power entered the capacitor. The barrel of the gun elevated slightly, in preparation for unleashing a shell with thirty six mega joules of energy.

 _"_ _Lider_ – class," Kolchak ordered, _"we have just lost contact with several satellites. Americans must have taken them out. We are detecting several Western ones overhead. Engage at will. Follow up with a bombardment of Norwegian military emplacements."_

"Acknowledged," Sotnikov said, "activate the S-500, target the satellites. Attack the Norwegian positions."

Smoke and flame covered the fore deck of the two _Lider_ – class destroyers as the ship's vertical launch system spit out massive missiles which speed towards the sky. The air defense missiles streak through the atmosphere before deploying their kinetic kill warheads. The warheads then continue their journey, smashing through the satellites and turning them into heaps of twisted metal, scattering thousands of pieces of debris into orbit.

Others quickly levelled out and flew low over the sea, revealing them to be Kalibur-NK cruise missiles. Speeding along at su

"Sir," another officer said, "our radars are detecting erratic signals."

"Already?" asked Sotnikov, "Do they have that much confidence in their Joint Strike Fighters?"

"No sir," the officer shook his head, "the contact is on the surface of the water."

Sotnikov frowned, "On the water?"

"Yes," the officer replied, "last bearing north twenty three degrees east, range eleven kilometres, moving due south at 20 knots. The unidentified object was detected on the lower frequency bands of our radars and by our photonic radars. Higher frequency bands see nothing."

"Tell me more," Sotnikov demanded.

"We can't," officer said, "we only know that is there. In fact, the contact keeps disappearing and reappearing."

Sotnikov listened to the officer before saying, "So this unknown contact not only manages to evade our active electronically scanning arrays, but also our revolutionary photonic radar. This is a serious threat. I must report this to Admiral Kolchak. Their Ka-35 just returned, I believe. Time to send out our own."

While the destroyer's helicopter was prepared for a sortie, Sotnikov picked up a phone.

"Admiral Kolchak this is Captain Sotnikov," he said, "our radar picked up on a mysterious object on the surface of the water. It blinks in and out of radar coverage, apparently able to evade our AESAs and photonic radars. Could it be a submarine? I am dispatching a Ka-35 to the area."

"A Japanese or American submarine," Kolchak said, "yes, that is likely. The _Nepreklonnyy_ detected that as well, as did the systems of _Pyotr Velikiy_. But we have more pressing matters. Because we lost our satellites, we are blinded to the position of the Norwegian fleet we were observing earlier. But they won't know where we are either. Await further orders, Captain."

"Yes sir," Sotnikov said before putting down the phone.

* * *

Later, the Ka-35 approached the location where the mysterious object was last spotted. The helicopter whipped up a large amount of spray as it descended closer to the water.

"Alright," the pilot said, "standard procedure, lower the sonar. We'll see what we find."

"Reckon it'll be the mystery enemy that is sinking all the ships?" asked the co-pilot.

"Or some American submarine," the pilot replied, "and we're gonna blast it out of the water."

The two men chuckled. A stubby cylinder is lowered from hovering helicopter and splashes into the water. The sonar operator looks at his screen intently as the sonar pinged through the water.

"Anything?" asked the pilot.

"No," the sonar operator replied, "not a single return."

"Perhaps the motherfucker has left," the pilot spat, "I am reporting this to the Captain."

* * *

A communications officer manning his station was feeling bored, despite the fact that World War Three has just begun. Suddenly, a hail from the Ka-35 came in.

"Neumolimyy, _this is Ruslan One with a status report, over._ "

"Go ahead," the officer said.

 _"We have scoured the area with our sonar, but we haven't picked up anything."_

"What is this?" asked Sotnikov, looking over to the officer, "They haven't found anything."

"No sir," the communication officer said, "apparently not. Perhaps the phantom we detected is a glitch?"

"Right," Sotnikov replied in as he walked over to the terminal, "the object appeared on both our AESAs and photonic radars. It was also picked up by _Nepreklonnyy_ and _Pyotr Velikiy_. Do you honestly believe that the systems of all three ships are glitched out in the exact same manner?"

"Sir, look!" the lieutenant said, pointing out the bridge.

The sea at the horizon suddenly turned dark and thick, like some a massive oil slick. The substance was more like tar, to be precise. Dark clouds also gathered, swirling around a central cloud pillar. The clouds expanded rapidly, spreading out towards the Russian fleet.

"What the fuck?" Sotnikov swore, "Some giant oil spill? And a supercell storm?"

"Looks like a mushroom cloud," the lieutenant muttered, "don't tell me that nukes have already been exchanged?"

"No," the communications officer said, "if they have, we'd be notified. And we would have tracked the missiles anyway. Mushroom clouds aren't black like storm clouds either."

"Sir," a radar operator said, "we can't penetrate the clouds with our sensors."

"Not with any of the frequencies?" asked Sotnikov.

"No," was the reply. The Captain frowned. What the hell is going on here?"

 _"All ships, this is Admiral Kolchak, we are detecting a strange atmospheric phenomenon ahead. It is resisting radar penetration by all systems. It could be some American superweapon. Keep your eyes peeled."_

The water a kilometre to their starboard suddenly began churning, quickly turning into a bubbling froth. The water then exploded as a massive black figure rocketed out before splashing back down. Several waves splashed over the warships, rocking them with their violence. As water cascaded from the creature, the Russians could see what it is.

A massive monster with dark grey skin, roughly taking the form of a human who took too much steroids and never left the gym. But that was where the similarities ended, for the monster possessed two rounded heads of a shiny metal, both ending in snapping jaws with nasty looking teeth. A red glow emanated from the mouths, accompanied by tongues of flame. The monster appeared to be chained by a pair of massive handcuffs, but it still appeared very intimidating. Dual turrets are mounted on its shoulders and biceps. Spikes protruded from its back. The monster was easily a hundred and fifty metres across and about as high.

* * *

"What the FUCK is that!" Kolchak shouted, "THIS is the kind of superweapon that has been decimating the worlds shipping?"

Both heads of the monster roared loudly before the guns on it opened fire. A _Sovremenny_ – class destroyer burst into flames before falling out of formation while an _Udaloy_ – class was completely obliterated.

"Shoot back!" Kolchak shouted, "What the hell are you maggots waiting for!? Can't you do something without an order?"

"We can't!" an officer exclaimed, "All our tracking systems have gone crazy and we can't get a lock!"

"Then use the goddamned railgun and aim for its head!"

The railgun turret on _Pyotr Velikiy_ turned to face the monster under manual control, aiming for its left head.

"FIRE!" Kolchak ordered.

The barrel of the railgun glowed and crackled before it fired a shell at hypersonic speed. The projectile hit the monster on its left head. But it didn't seem to be disturbed, because a formerly invisible energy barrier flared up as it dissipated the energy. The guns from other ships also open fire. Railguns from the _Lider_ – class and 130mm AK-130's from the others. Explosions splash across the energy barrier, but it held fast.

"Torpedoes!" Kolchak shouted, "Rockets! Hit it with everything we've got!"

The 533mm torpedo tubes of the battlecruiser turned to face the mysterious creature before unloading its load of VA-121 Shtroms. Developed from the VA-111 Shkvals, the torpedoes are propelled by a rocket motor which also generates a bubble of gas around the torpedo. As a result, it is capable of reaching a speed of three hundred knots. In mere seconds, the supercavitating torpedoes have crossed the gap between the fleet and the monster. Massive water sprouts erupt from under the monster as the torpedoes hit home.

At the same time, ASW rockets are also fired, the ten barrel 305mm RBU-1000s unleashing a salvo of rockets. But like the other weapons, they were stopped by the barrier.

The monster replied only by firing its guns again, pulverizing _Nepreklonnyy_ and several other ships in the fleet.

"Goddamit!" Kolchak cursed, "What the hell is that we are fighting?"

"Nothing we've got will even dent it!" a bridge officer exclaimed.

Kolchak clenched his teeth and cursed before picking up a microphone, "All ships, this is Admiral Kolchak. Break formation and retreat! This is an enemy we can't beat!"

But the water churned in several places. More of the shadowy figures rise from the water. All of them are about the size of a destroyer and take the form of whale like monsters made of black steel. They possessed massive teeth and glowing green eyes.

"We're surrounded!" the bridge officer shouted.

Opening their mouths, the monsters revealed batteries of guns.

"Ah, fuck," was Kolchak's last thought as the combined firepower reduced the entire fleet to rubble.

* * *

A lone figure standing on a head of the first monster watched the Russian fleet burn. She gazed at the burning wrecks and oil slicks, her glowing red eyes overflowing with contempt. The woman herself is scarily pale and is dressed in black.

"Hmph," she said, "this fleet no match for the firepower of Battleship Water Demon either. But I must admit, it was tougher than the Norwegian fleet we flattened."

She then ordered her destroyer escorts, "Let's go. It's time to annihilate anyone who stands in our way. The world shall know the power of the Abyssal Fleet."

* * *

 **Hey guys, you might be wondering why I am starting again. You see, Eastern Uprising was deleted for whatever reason (most likely too many author notes as chapters). So I decided to start anew, with different plot, characters and mechanisms. With longer chapters and what I perceive to be an improved writing style. Of course, the old Red Fleet Resurrected will still be up. I have no intentions of deleting that.**


	2. Chapter 2

**K-21**

 _The Abyssals rose up en masse as the opening shots of the war were fired. The naval forces of all the nations were decimated. Civilian shipping and coastal settlements followed soon after. Some smaller island nations were wiped off the map altogether._

In the northeastern reaches of Russia is a port city called Murmansk. While its population has been steadily decreasing, it is still the most populous city within the Arctic Circle by a significant margin. Home to a navy presence, it is under heavy guard by Naval Infantry. And they were joined by armor and infantry divisions, for Murmansk is little more than a hundred kilometres from Finnish and Norwegian Borders.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Colonel Viktor Ivanoff shouted into a phone, "The Northern Fleet was annihilated? Our refurbished _Kirov_ – class battlecruiser and her _Lider_ – class escorts? "

"Yes sir," the person on the other end replied, "we were sent to investigate a mysterious object that evaded active electronically scanning arrays and photonic radars. Our sonar found nothing, but when we returned, we just managed to catch footage of a giant monster leaving with escorts. And the Northern Fleet in ruins. We tried to look for survivors, but couldn't find any. They won't last in weather like this."

"Shit," Ivanoff cursed, "what about you?"

"We are heading back to Murmansk, ETA ten minutes. Our fuel supply should suffice."

"Acknowledged, Ruslan One," Ivanoff nodded, "ending communications."

The line went dead before the officer put down the phone. He sighed before looking at the other people in the room.

"So it is real," a Naval Infantry soldier asked, "the monsters that have been sinking our ships."

"They wiped out the Northern Fleet," Ivanoff replied, "and one of our surviving satellite showed that a Norwegian Fleet was obliterated as well."

"Have we no warships?" asked the soldier.

Ivanoff laughed bitterly and looked out the window, "We've lost contact with every single naval asset in our jurisdiction. _That_ thing is our last hope."

Looking out after Ivanoff, the soldier sees what he is looking at. The Soviet submarine _K-21_. The World War Two era submarine was laid down in 1937 and commissioned in 1940. It is a _K_ -class submarine which served in the Russian Northern Fleet under Nikolai Lunin. In 1982, _K-21_ was made into museum ship as was encased in concrete.

"If there is any good news," Ivanoff turned back to the soldier, "is that the Finnish and Norwegians aren't willing to cross the border after the initial clash between our air forces."

But the soldier was no longer listening. He continued staring in the direction of _K-21_.

"What's the matter, Sergeant?" asked Ivanoff, frowning.

The soldier pointed at the preserved ship shakily. Ivanoff turned around slowly before his eyes went wide as well.

* * *

A soldier walked by the preserved _K-21_ when he suddenly stopped. He back tracked his steps and looked in the direction of the submarine. A child walked along its hull regarding the submarine. He looked to be about ten years old, dressed in a sailor outfit. Just a sailor outfit, even though the air temperature was well into the negatives.

"Hey kid!" the soldier hollered, "What the hell are you doing?"

The child turned around and looked at the soldier, who can now see that he has curly, steel colored hair and grey eyes.

"Is something the matter?" the boy asked.

The soldier frowned. Something about the kid didn't seem right. Ignoring the color of his eyes and hair, he is wearing very little in the Murmansk Winter.

"We're in a war," the soldier said, "the Norwegians and Finns may cross the border and bomb this place any moment now. Where are your parents?"

"Parents?" the boy tilted his head.

"Don't play dumb," the soldier said sternly, "and how are you not cold?"

"Don't be silly," the boy said, "ships don't fear the cold."

"What?" the soldier was about to enquire when he was interrupted by a radio transmission.

"Hey kid," the soldier said, "I just received word that an unknown enemy has been observed in the Kola Bay, bombarding the shore. Apparently it is the same enemy that took out our Northern Fleet."

The sound of distant cannon fire reached their ears.

"Hear that?" the soldier said, "Now come on, this place might get really dangerous."

"Is that so?" the boy asked, "then it is time for me to get some action."

"Wait, what?" the soldier exclaimed.

The child ran up the side of the submarine and towards the conning tower.

"What the hell are you doing?" the soldier shouted as he climbed on after him, "Come back you little shit!"

 _However, there are two sides to every coin. And the opposite of the Abyssals came fast. For when the Abyssals struck coastal populations, a miracle occurred._

The sound of a diesel electric engine starting up suddenly filled his ears. Vibrations ran through the hull of the submarine.

"What the fuck!" the soldier shouted, " _K-21_ is starting up now? How?"

The submarine itself also began to change. Color spread across the submarine, until bluish color was completely replaced by a new color scheme. The ship became pitch black, though swirls and streaks of red and light blue interrupted the darkness of the hull. By now the child has climbed up the ladders. The soldier couldn't believe his eyes. Small chibi-like humanoids standing near the conning tower saluted the boy as he disappeared into a door.

"Wait!" the soldier exclaimed as he gave chase, "What are you doing?"

He managed to jump in just before one of the chibis closed the door.

* * *

"Oh my god," Ivanoff muttered, "first some mysterious enemy wrecks the Northern Fleet. Now this decades old submarine is coming alive and is giving itself a new paint job!"

"Ha, ha," the soldier laughed dryly, "I get it. World War Three and all this bullshit, it's all a wacky dream."

A burst of energy rippled from the submarine in a powerful shockwave, shattering the concrete block which encased the _K-21_. The submarine then slid forward into the icy water before continuing through the regions carved out by the icebreaker which passed before.

 _Old warships preserved as museums came alive. Breaking out of chains, bridges and even concrete blocks, they steamed into the ocean, challenging the Abyssal dominance._

 _Very little is known about the ships, except that they met the following criteria._

 _Only the warships commissioned before the end of World War Two and after 1900 were among those which reactivated. The ships are of destroyer size and up. They also adopted color schemes of their national flag, naval ensign or naval jack. Their crew are comprised of chibi humanoids. And finally, they are controlled by a "Kanmusu", a humanoid entity which often took the shape of an attractive young woman, her age approximately that of the length of her ship divided by ten._

The Naval Infantry solider moaned as he looked up. He was standing in front of a chibi, dressed in a uniform he recognized as Soviet in origin, dating back to the early days of the Soviet Navy, or the Workers' and Peasants' Red Fleet as it was known back then. He held a PPSh-41s, the juxtaposition of the comical beings and the dangerous weapon making a rather weird image in his mind. It would be something he won't forget.

"What the hell is this?" he asked.

"Hmm?" the boy returned, "Oh, you have come aboard for the sortie, eh?"

"Sortie?" the soldier asked, "What are you talking about? And seriously, who are you?"

"I am sortieing to the Barents Sea," the boy replied, "and as for who I am? I am K-21."

"How did a kid like you become a captain?" the soldier pressed on, "And that sa-"

"No, comrade," the kid interrupted, "you are mistaken. I am not the captain of the K-21. I _am_ K-21 and K-21 is me. But enough chatter. All of you maggots, to battle stations!"

The chibis immediately returned to whatever they were supposed to be doing.

"What are they?" the soldier asked, "Fairies?"

"Hmm," the kid, who claimed to be 'K-21', "that is a good name. Yep, they're fairies."

"Huh," the soldier muttered, "so, uh, what are we doing?"

K-21 turned back to him and frowned, "Why, we go and fight th enemy, of course!"

"And how do you suppose you do that?" asked the soldier.

"What is your name, comrade?" K-21 asked.

"I am Corporal Vladimir Yakubov," the soldier replied.

"Well, Corporal Yakubov," K-21 said, "I am a submarine. So I will move to the ocean, get into a good position and then torpedo the crap out of anything that threatens the motherland. And what my torpedoes don't destroy, my guns will finish off."

K-21 sat down in front of a periscope, the bewildered soldier watching.

The submarine _K-21_ continued its trip on the surface at its top speed of 22.5 knots.

"So, err K-21," Corporal Yakubov said, "you said that you are K-21. But what are you?"

K-21 turned back to face the soldier, "Well, Corporal, tell me this. What is Vladimir Yakubov?"

"Eh?" the Corporal was confused, "I am Vladimir Yakubov."

"And who are 'you'?" asked K-21.

"I…" Corporal Yakubov struggled to find an answer while thinking, _Just what kind of a kid can pull this kind of philosophical bullshit out of thin air?_

"I'll give you time to think," K-21 said as he turned back to the front, "because soon, we're going to fight."

* * *

Yakubov watched as _K-21_ navigated through the waters, heading to the sea. K-21 looked through the targeting periscope while another fairy manned the navigation one.

"Alrighty," K-21 said, "we're going down to periscope depth."

The submarine slightly tipped forward before sliding beneath the waters, leaving only the periscopes pointed out. The speed was also reduced to 10 knots. A little while later the submarine entered open waters, his opponent visible in the distance.

"So the enemy has been spotted," K-21 said, to no-one in particular, "get into position."

"What is the enemy?" asked Yakubov.

"See for yourself," K-21 said.

The fairy at the navigation periscope moved away and Yakubov peered through it. In the distance, he could see three whale like creatures, the size of a World War Two destroyers. Pitch black, save for glowing green eyes, they were bombarding a coastal village. Another ship was visible, but it was very different. For starters, it actually resembled a warship, with a hull, gun turrets and superstructure. But the similarity ended there. At the prow of the ship, a large humanoid creature's upper body seemed to be jutting from it, like an ugly figurehead. It almost appeared to be coming out of the jaws of the ship, for it was surrounded by teeth at its base. The gun turrets were weird too. They were stacked on top of each other in a tower, instead of superfiring. Single guns also appeared in casemates on the side.

"The hell is that?" asked the soldier.

"Something nasty, of course," K-21 replied as Yakubov moved away and the fairy replaced him, "and we're going to wreck them. I mean, look at those dumb fucks. They are completely stationary. Maybe your weapons can't harm them, but I can. The forward tubes should be ready by now!"

The weapons fairy push the last torpedo into the tube and seal the hatch.

"Haw, haw, bitches," K-21 smirked, "fire tubes one and two!"

533mm torpedoes slide from the bow of K-21 and streak through the water, heading towards the lead Abyssal destroyer. Less than a minute later, two massive explosions erupt from the side. The monstrous creature floundered.

 _While advanced 21_ _st_ _century weapons couldn't even scratch the Abyssals, the supposedly obsolete artillery and torpedoes of the Kanmusus smashed through them._

"Excellent," K-21 said, "prepare three and four. Load seven and eight!"

* * *

Two Ha – class destroyers, a Ro – class destroyer and a Ho – class light cruiser were bombarding Polyarny. The small town of thirty thousand was expecting an attack and some army units were present. But their weapons were useless against the Abyssals.

It was an easy mission, a walk in the park. Until two underwater explosions rocked a Ha-class destroyer. The ship floundered before tilting to one side and sinking. Confusion spread throughout the minds of the Abyssals present. The Ho-class which led the fleet was shocked that the humans had weapons capable of passing their barriers. The explosions were underwater and the ships weren't moving. So the weapon must have been a torpedo. Since no surface ships were present, then there was either a land based torpedo tube or a submarine present.

The Ho – class ordered the fleet to start taking evasive maneuvers, but the other Ha – class was hit. There must have been a magazine detonation, because the Abyssal went up in a massive fireball. Burning fragments of it fell out of the sky. That was when the Ro – class destroyer reported that it spotted a periscope.

The Ho – class grinned internally. Whatever the submarine was, it certainly wasn't going to last much longer. Not with the power of a Ro – class and a Ho – class after it.

* * *

"We've been spotted," K-21 said, "enemy destroyer is turning to face us. Cruiser is maintaining broadside."

"We'll survive this, right?" Yakubov asked.

K-21 turned to face him, "I've survived World War Two with more than four thousand tons under my belt. A light cruiser and a destroyer won't stop me. Throw us into full speed reverse. Five and six should be loaded with torps. Load tubes one to four with EhPs."

"What are you doing?" asked Yakubov.

"Didn't you hear my commands?" asked K-21.

"Why are you reversing?" asked Yakubov, "You aren't back out of the fight, are you?"

"The Red Fleet never surrenders," K-21 smirked, "but it isn't above performing tactical retreats to even out the field a little."

"Kid," Yakubov said, "your plan better work."

K-21 frowned, "Oh please, give me another decade and I'll be celebrating my hundredth birthday. And you better get the cake, cuz it's gonna be one hell of a party."

"You sound like you have a plan," Yakubov laughed nervously.

"You'll see," K-21 replied as he turned back to his periscope, "ah, we're starting to move back now."

The submarine has gone from going ahead at full speed of ten knots and now reversed as three.

"Launch five and six!" K-21 ordered, "Followed by one and two!"

As two more torpedoes shot out from tubes five and six, several round, metallic objects slid out of the one and two. A heavy object fell from the main body of each, but remained connected by a chain. Seconds later, a volley of shells descended upon the _K-21_. Explosions rocked the ship.

"We're hit!" Yakubov exclaimed.

"Damage report!" K-21 shouted, never looking away from his periscope.

Nobody answered, but K-21 nodded before saying, "We're fine. The shells were slowed down by the water and hit us as small angles. No significant damage. Good thing the EhPs we dropped weren't detonated. We'd be seriously fucked if they did."

 _K-21_ shuddered as another shell hit.

"These gunners aren't bad," K-21 said, "but we aren't either."

A two explosions erupt from amidships of the Ho – class. The ship tilted, but still fired its main battery. Smoke billowed out of its funnel now that it attempted to increase its speed. Meanwhile, the Ro – class advanced, the guns set inside its gaping, toothy jaws blazing. The distance between the vessels closed as the Ro – class steamed towards _K-21_ at full speed.

"Hey kid," Yakubov swallowed as the dark bloated hull of the destroyer became visible from the bridge, "not that I am underestimating you, but that ship is coming right at us and you aren't doing anything."

"What do you mean?" asked K-21.

"I mean that-" Yakubov began but was cut short by an explosion which lit up the water.

The submarine shook as the shockwave propagated through the water and slammed into it. The enemy destroyer's bow was separated from the rest of the ship. The ship sunk rapidly towards the bottom of the sea, literally nosediving as it was travelling at high speed.

"What was that?" asked Yakubov.

"EhPs," K-21 grinned, appearing childish at last, "moored contact mines designed for _K_ – class submarines like me. Total mass of twenty three hundred pounds with six hundred and sixty of TNT."

He paused for a second, "Huh, the enemy cruiser is retreating, eh? Well, we are in no shape to chase it. This is it, gentlemen, the first sortie is over. Now take us to the surface."

"Phew," Yakubov exhaled, "I thought I was going to wake up just then."

"Wake up?" asked K-21, puzzled.

"You know," Yakubov explained, "World War Three has started because we thought those bastards were made by the yanks and the yanks thought we made them. Then we got news that the entire Northern Fleet was obliterated. I thought this was a bad dream, y'know?"

"It ain't so bad now," K-21 shrugged, "we won this."

He turned to the fairies, "Well done, men, you make me proud. Take us to the surface."

 _K-21_ ascended through the water and broke through the surface. Yakubov climbs out, followed by K-21. They were greeted by the sight of Polyarny. Parts of it were hit quite severely by the bombardment.

"Hmm," K-21 mused, "we were late."

"So," asked Yakubov, "you never answered my question. What are you?"

K-21 turned to face Yakubov, "And you never told me exactly what Vladimir Yakubov is."

* * *

 **A Soviet Kanmusu, though Kanmusu is something of a misnomer because it translates to "Fleet Girl" and as you just read, K-21 is not a girl. And just so you know, if you put 69.081060, 33.433078 in Google Maps, you will find K-21, preserved in a block of asphalt. I think it is asphalt, from the photos of K-21, or concrete. I will be working on multiple countries at once.**

 **The difference between this and my previous fictions (and the universe), is that the Kanmusu don't just summon miniaturized guns and torpedoes as their rigging. They summon the entire ship, which they can dissipate when not in use. The relation between the Kanmusu and ship is like that of a Mental Model and her ship.  
**

 **Abyssals are different too. Those that look like fish (the destroyers) are simply scaled up to ship size. Those that look quasi human look like ships, with the human bits acting as a prow head. Abyssals which look human will be similar to the shipgirls. They summon entire warships (or monsters in the case of boss level ones, like the two headed monster of Battleship Water Demon).**

 **That said, if any of you know Japanese, please be kind enough to throw me a word that is a male counterpart to kanmusu. It will be useful because sooner or later, the Russians are going to come into contact with the Japanese.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Seriously wondering whether I should move this to crossover with ARP section, given the relationship between shipgirl and ship is so similar to that of mental model and ship. And speaking of ARP, I managed to get the ARP Takao in World of Warships! She's a real beauty, with that badass blue paintjob and all.**

* * *

 **The Tsar's Navy and the Peasants' Navy**

"Looks like it isn't just Polyarny that got hit," K-21 muttered, "I see smoke rising from Gadzhiyevo and Olenya Guba."

"Hmm," Yakubov said, "I say we better go and help the people."

"Excellent idea," K-21 said before ordering, "alright men, take us to Polyarny!"

There was no one present to hear the command, yet the submarine started to move.

"Umm," Yakubov asked, "how can those fairies hear you?"

"They don't," K-21 said, "they are extensions of me. In fact, I don't even need to give vocal orders. But I prefer to."

The submarine slowly cruiser through a narrow waterway before coming to a stop by a pier. A crowd of people had gathered around.

Yakubov jumped onto land, followed by K-21. K-21 then turned to face _K-21._

"Okay," he said, "I don't really need this right now. I'll pack it up."

"Are you kidding me?" Yakubov snapped his head around, "you're gonna pack it up? I am really awake?"

"Gosh," K-21 frowned, "you've been saying that a lot."

K-21's eyes glowed red while a similarly colored light suffused the vessel, which then began to break down into pixel like fragments before turning into luminous red particles. K-21 raised one hand and the luminous particles entered his body through it. The jaws of everyone who witnessed the event dropped, but K-21 simply turned to the people.

"Alrighty," he said, "anyone injured? Trapped under rubble?"

Silence.

"I'll take that as a no," K-21 replied, "anyway, I sunk three of those bastards and chased their head honcho away. You'll be safe for now."

"Who are you?" demanded a civilian, a middle aged man.

"I am K-21," K-21 answered, "and K-21 is me."

"You were the one in that concrete block," the civilian asked, "preserved in Severomorsk?"

"Indeed," K-21 said.

"What took you so long?" the civilian shouted, "Those monsters have been sinking ships for over a year! We've started World War Three over this! Any moment now, nukes may fall!"

He started walking towards K-21, continuing his angry rant, "If you had come back sooner, none of this would have happened!"

"Yeah!" a young woman joined the shouting contest, "My husband was on a warship in the Barent's Sea when his ship just vanished! They never even found his body!"

"Um-" K-21 was at a loss for words, "I am sorry, comrades, but I only woke up today."

"Well sorry ain't good enough!" an old man bellowed, "My son is a destroyer captain in the Northern Fleet! And if those monsters cruised up to this place, then…then…"

He fell onto his knees and began crying.

K-21 walked forward slowly, "I am sorry for not coming back earlier, but…I couldn't. I can't control when I wake up. As soon as this Corporal here told me of enemies attacking the coast, I came here as quickly as I could."

"Well you weren't quick enough!" the man stood up.

"That's enough!" a stern voice interrupted.

Looking to the speaker, the people realized that the soldier was pissed off.

"Yes, I understand that you have suffered at the hands of these…whatever the fuck they are," Yakubov exclaimed, "and I know that you are hurt and angry and need someone to blame. But this kid isn't to blame. Sure, it would have been better if he came early, but don't you think he would have if he could? And were it not for him, those bastards would have kept bombing us! And if they took out the Northern Fleet, then nothing we have here can even scratch them!"

The crowd went silent again.

"Thanks, comrade," K-21 spoke up, "I appreciate it."

"Are you all that stands between us and those monsters?" asked a young girl.

"Heh," K-21 smirked, "there are a few other preserved warships in Russia. Besides, if I can come back on our own, surely there are way to…convince more brothers to return. And who might you be?"

"My name is Zria Sotnikov," the girl replied, "and one day, I will help you fight!"

The townspeople laughed bitterly and shook their heads. An enemy powerful enough to wipe out the Russian Northern Fleet is not one to be underestimated.

"I will remember that name," K-21 said, "because I will be looking forward to seeing you again."

The sound of helicopter rotors entered the ears of those present. Turning to the sound, the people see multiple army helicopters of various types descend upon the town.

"Hmm," Yakubov said, "it looks like the army is here."

"I guess they would want an explanation," K-21 shrugged, "but I doubt they would accept mine."

"To be honest," Yakubov sighed, "as long as you can pummel those monsters, no-one is really going to care."

 **SPACE**

K-21 sat inside the office used by Colonel Ivanoff and his men. The said officer and soldiers sat/stood opposite of him, watching K-21 intensely. Outside, _K-21_ was berthed near the shattered remains of the concrete block. Naval Infantry soldiers inspected the ship while curious bystanders watched and took photos.

"So," K-21 asked casually, "what's on my face?"

"It's not as much as something on your face," Ivanoff said, "as much as the fact that you have one."

"What do you mean?" asked K-21.

"You said you are _K-21_ and claim you are a ship," a soldier said, "but _K-21_ is out there. What are you?"

"What are you?" asked K-21.

"Don't bother asking him what he is," Yakubov said to the soldier, "the only answer you will get out of K-21 is a simple yet ridiculously difficult question to answer regarding identity. I would advise you to stop before you suffer an identity crisis. For a kid, he is quite…"

"Not a kid, Corporal," K-21 interrupted, "I was wrecking enemies of the motherland long before you were born."

"Did our guys in Vladivostok or Saint Petersburg get a better answer?" asked Ivanoff, "I know _S-56_ and _Aurora_ are preserved in those areas."

"No sir," another officer replied, "the guys in Vladivostok couldn't get any answer out of _S-56_ and the guys in Saint Petersburg are too busy worshipping _Aurora_."

"Come again?" Ivanoff asked.

" _Aurora_ ," the officer said, "that cruiser we've preserved in Saint Petersburg. It was sunk by the monsters after they bombed the crap out of the city, but apparently rose out of the water in the form before 1917 remodeling, with a bonus paint job."

"Black with red and blue?" asked Yakubov.

The officer snorted, "Hell no, my dear Corporal. _Aurora_ looks like he was made into a mansion or palace. The hull and superstructure are a brilliant white, like platinum, to quote witnesses. A lot of gold in intricate patterns and a ton of luxurious furniture. It was like a floating Tsarist Russia Palace. _Aurora_ carried so much bling that the monsters probably retreated back to whatever trench they came out of because they can't stand the light reflecting off him. We've got the orthodox people in Saint Petersburg yammering on about how Aurora's rise is 'divine intervention' and that he is some kind of 'angelic manifestation' to combat the 'demon ships of godless America' or some weird shit."

"That's odd," Ivanoff frowned, "for most of her existence, Aurora is Soviet ship and Soviet Russia was basically atheist as a state."

"What the hell!" K-21 shot up, "When I made land at Polyarny, I was almost lynch mobbed by the locals who said I came too late! But Aurora comes in after the bastards flatten Saint Petersburg and still gets worshipped?"

"Calm down, comrade," Ivanoff throws his hands up, "if you had that much gold and platinum on you, you'd be worshipped as an angel too."

"There is no god," K-21 snorted, "those who say there are, are just deluding themselves. God ain't scientific."

"And ships spontaneously coming alive with human captains, fairy crew and flashy new paintjobs are?" asked Ivanoff.

"Hey," K-21 interrupted, "if it wasn't for me, Polyarny would be hit much harder."

"You didn't answer my question," Yakubov said.

"Whatever," Ivanoff said, "this is getting nowhere. We need to report to our superiors about these…organisms. But what should we call them?"

"The monsters?" asked K-21.

"No," Ivanoff shook his head, "the Japanese started calling them the 'Sunken Fleet'. Westerners have been calling them 'Abyssals', which translates to ' _glubinnyy_ ' so we'll stick to that."

"I mean K-21," Yakubov said, "what do we call his kind? He calls his crew 'fairies'. But what of himself?"

"You named by crew 'fairies'," K-21 said, "now think of something else."

All eyes fell on Yakubov as he tried to think. A while later he spoke again, "Perhaps _Okean-Khranitel'_ , _Okeanitel_ for short?"

"Ocean Guardian, eh? That'll do," K-21 said, "until we can come up with a better one."

"Then what about law?" asked Ivanoff, "Should you be treated as assets or citizens?"

"I don't know," K-21 said, "don't ask me this stuff. Give me something to torp and I will blow his ass out of the water. Just don't ask me to think or make big decisions. I am a ship, not an officer."

"Well that is bad," Ivanoff frowned, "it has been a long time since we used World War Two era ships and tactics. I doubt any naval officer know how to command you properly."

"Then get Aurora to train them," K-21 said, "isn't he a training cruiser?"

"Excellent idea," Ivanoff said, "I will suggest this to the higher-ups."

"But," Yakubov asked, "what about you? You are damaged, yes?"

"Then I need a base," K-21 said, "complete with a shipyard."

* * *

Fifteen years passed since the Abyssals first changed Zria Sotnikov's life forever. On the fateful day that World War Three began, when all available warships were on the sea, the Abyssals struck and annihilated all of them. Then in the chaos, the Abyssals turned their attention to the shore, bombarding coastal settlements.

Zria didn't just lose her father to the Abyssals. Soon afterwards, her mother became neglectful of looking after her. Eventually, she abandoned Zria and went after some businessman who remained affluent, leaving her to her grandparents. Life was getting exceedingly difficult after the world's economy was shot to hell. Though why she went after a businessman in a time of economic collapse was beyond her.

But Zria didn't blame her mother.

No.

She blamed the Abyssals.

Those bastards ruined the lives of billions.

Zria is going to make them pay. That is why she studied hard in school and enrolled in the Aurora Naval Academy in Saint Petersburg. The naval academy is an elite institution, specially created to train humans to command the returned ships in the fight against Abyssals. They only accepted the best who went through the N.G. Kuznetsov Naval Academy first.

Zria was only the third women in history to be accepted into the Aurora Naval Academy. Like Alicia Kosyakov and Anna Stepanyan who preceded her, Zria's uniform had to be custom made. The uniform of the Okeanitel commander is based on that of the Russian Federation Navy, only being dark blue in colour instead of black. The yellow colour in the shoulder and sleeve insignias are replaced with white.

The instructors of the Aurora Naval Academy were the primarily the three _Pallada_ – class protected cruisers, assisted by other Imperial Russian vessels. Humans played a minimal role. Saint Petersburg is the headquarters of the Baltic Fleet, guarded entirely by Imperial Russian ships.

Zria always enjoyed looking at the Imperial Russian ships. The returned ships usually looked similar to their old incarnations, save for difference in color schemes (usually based on the national flag or naval ensigns of the nation they originated from) and maybe a renovated interior, depending on the personality of the shipgirl. The Imperial Russian ships are different. They are great displays of worldly splendor, with brilliant white hulls and superstructure that glint like platinum. Huge amounts of gold and ivory decorated the interior and exterior, along with luxurious furniture, carpets and other drapery. They are like the Imperial palaces of the Romanov dynasty, reflection of the wealth and power once held by the Russian Tsars.

The Okantiel, the human-shaped entities which commanded the lower ranked fairies, are also like the Tsars. Upper class in appearance and mannerisms, they are wildly popular.

Belief that Abyssals were the product of the Americans have long been acknowledged as baseless accusations. Belief that the Okeantiel are angelic manifestations of the original ships remained, particularly amongst the orthodox populations. The fact that the returned ships are as glamorous as any cathedral and often contained religious motifs definitely helped the fact.

"Not surprised to see you here," a voice said, "Cadet Sotnikov."

Right now, Zria stood in the crow's nest of _Aurora,_ situated halfway up the foremast. As a ship, it played a vital role in Russian history over a century ago. And now as a vessel of an Okeanitel, it once again made history. After punting the Abyssals out of Russian waters, the cruiser then returned to shore, to raving crowds. Within three months, Moscow built a fully operational base while Aurora's fairies built a shipyard.

Sotnikov turned to face the speaker. He is none other than Aurora himself. He is at the top of the ladder that led to the crow's nest. The Okeanitel has changed considerably since his first appearance. At that time, he donned the flashy uniforms of the Imperial Russian Navy and his vessel was like that of the other Imperial ships. But now, he wears a black trench coat, which bore some similarity to the Soviet era navy uniforms, and a black officer cap. His vessel changed to. Before 2042, _Aurora_ was just as glamorous as any Tsar Russian palace. But now, with a coloration of black onyx – save for some streaks of red and blue – and minus all his extravagant decorations and internal workings, he looks less of a symbol of wealth and more of a fighting machine.

"It's my favorite spot," Sotnikov replied, "where I can see the rest of the fleet."

Aurora chuckled as he looked back. Aurora led three _Izyaslav_ – class destroyers, an _Andrei Pervozvanny_ – class battleship and a _Bayan_ – class armored cruiser. The fleet sailed back from a training exercise in the Baltic Sea.

"Pretty, aren't they?" Aurora gestured at the ships, "Too bad ships like us are only good for looking at. Actual combat against Abyssals? Not so much."

Warships of era Imperial Russian rarely left Russian waters, as they were perceived to be obsolete compared to foreign and Abyssal ships. They were largely limited to training, while the newer ships like _Kirov_ – class cruisers and _Gnevny_ – class destroyers fought on the frontlines.

"Yet they get so much more coverage by media," Zria sighed, "I think the Soviet era ships need more credit."

Even though the Soviet ships contributed far more in the war against the Abyssals, the Imperial ships get far more coverage. It led to a feud between the Soviet and Imperial Okeanitel. The Imperials saw the Soviets as low class peasants who are rough and uncivilized. The Soviet Okeanitels regarded the Imperial Okeanitels as a useless 'parade fleet' of 'bourgeoisie battleships' who do nothing to help the war.

"Well," Aurora said, "we are approaching Kotlin Island. You Cadets will be getting your results for this year's war games training. If you people have what it takes, then you will be sent to the frontlines for another year of training with the Soviets. But instead of fighting each other, you will be taking on the Abyssals."

Sotnikov couldn't help but gulp, "Will I be fine?"

"Hmm?" Aurora looked up, just as he was shoulder level with the floor of the crow's nest, "Well, I'll be honest, you haven't reached the hardest phase in your training. That will be next."

"Yeah, I figured that," Sotnikov crouched down, "but seriously? I had to go through the N.G. Kuznetsov Naval Academy. Then the Aurora Naval Academy."

"Heh," Aurora grinned, "I told the President that it should be named the Nakhimov Naval School, but he told me that name was taken for the one in Crimea. So they named it after me. Quite flattering, I tell ya."

Sotnikov bit back a smart remark. As a Soviet ship, Aurora is more…chill...than his brother Pallada and Diana. But poking the patience of the Okeanitel is never a good idea. Not for the Soviets, who might "poke" you back physically. Not for the Imperials, who may or may not poke your grades.

"All the while receiving physical training by the Naval Infantry," Sotnikov groaned, "I mean really? I need to go through the same wringer those soldiers did? They forced me to get an army cut and get muscular."

"Weeeeeeeell," Aurora began, "at least that 'beautiful brown hair' you were so proud of is almost shoulder length and some of your muscle is now fat."

Sotnikov gave Aurora a death stare. Her brown eyes delivered more burn than satellite laser that the Soviet almost succeeded in putting into orbit.

"Okay," Aurora said, "I shouldn't have said that. I thought you will feel better if I did. Anyway, trust me, you are going to need your military level physical constitution to keep up with the Soviets. Ah, we're docking."

"Why do I need to be tough to keep up with the Soviet Okeanitel?" Sotnikov asked.

But Aurora has already descended the ladder.

After all the humans made land, Aurora turned to face the ship and dematerialized it. The process is an otherworldly sight that never ceases to be amazing to witness. Aurora and other Soviet ships are unique in that the light from their eyes and ship in the process is blood red in colour, compared to white, green or blue of other nations. It almost served as a teaser, reminding Russians that they know very little about the Okeanitel and Abyssals. Perhaps they are linked together in ways that Imperial Russian Okeanitel, Western Shipgirls and Japanese Kanmusu are not. Perhaps it was because the Russian flags and naval ensigns were primarily red in colour and that the Soviet navy was also called the Red Fleet. Perhaps the Soviets were demonic in origin, compared to the angelic Imperials. Not even the Okeanitel themselves know the answer. While the Soviets did not take being called demonic by anyone very kindly, western nations, particularly the United States, privately did so. It became a minor detail as Soviet ships are rarely seen. Out of sight, out of mind.

* * *

The Cadets who returned from the Baltic expedition sat inside the Naval Cathedral of Saint Nicholas. The structure was built on Kotlin Island as the main church of the Russian Navy and was dedicated to fallen sailors. Little has changed since its restoration and consecration in 2013, save for additions of statues and paintings of Okeanitel.

An assembly is being held in the hall, announcing the overall result of the training expeditions undertaken throughout the year. Sotnikov sat next to a civilian, who paid her scant attention. Admiral stood in front of the marble icon screen. To his right, a table manned by another officer that had a stack of paper on it.

"And so," the Admiral said, "now we will discuss how we went throughout the year. Overall, while all of you did well in the theory components of the previous years, you were not as good in these training expeditions. Understandable, because these training expeditions don't just tell us how good you are in theory and in drills, but in practical combat. You also went up against more experienced officers. But it seemed to me the quality of Cadets dropped over the last decade. You know our principles as well as I do. We'll rather lower the number of graduates than lower the bar."

He paused for a while, "Still, not all of you will make it to the next stage. Do not be disheartened. It is in your best interest, because the Abyssals are a powerful enemy and in the Okheanitel Force, you are the closest to them. And you do not need to be in the Russian Okeanitel Force to contribute to the War on Abyssals. Nevertheless, here are those who passed and where they will be assigned to."

The Admiral went through the names of those to be assigned to the Baltic Fleet, Black Sea Fleet and Pacific Fleet. A total of ten Cadets were called up and received their certificates, indicating they will undergo training on the frontlines. Much lower than the previous years.

"And now," the Admiral continued, "the Northern Fleet, based in Severomorsk, in the Far East."

Sotnikov swallowed.

"Cadet Feodorovich."

A young man almost a metre ninety in height with blonde hair, silver eyes, and well-defined muscles stood up and walked up to the Admiral. The Admiral smiled and handed him his certificate. They shook hands before Feodorovich took his position at the side.

"Cadet Shevtsova."

Another young man stands up. He isn't as tall as Feodorovivh, but still easily hit six feet. Shevtsova is dark skinned, with black hair and dark brown eyes. He thanks the Admiral, take his certificate and stands next to Feodorovich. The two men also shake hands.

"Cadet Sotnikov."

Sotnikov froze for a second before standing up and walking to the Admiral.

"First female we've had in a decade," the Admiral smiled, "good job."

Sotnikov nodded and took her certificate before standing next to Shevtsova and Feodorovich.

"Pretty good," Feodorovich said, "I knew you'd make it. With all that effort you put in."

"Too bad we're chosen for the Northern Fleet," Shevtsova muttered, "because shit is going to get a lot harder."

* * *

 **If you haven't noticed, I made changes to the storyline. The actual changes are small, but will lead to big changes in the future. Instead of going to Vladivostok and the Pacific Fleet, Sotnikov and co. will be sent to Severomorsk**


	4. Chapter 4

**Front Line Training  
**

Sotnikov looks out the window of the Irkut MC-21-400. The medium range airliner was developed in the early 21st century as a means of allowing Russia greater independence from Western aircraft. A decent airliner, it served its purpose well.

"Man," Feodorovich muttered as he leaned back, "why the hell are we taking an airliner?"

"Hell if I know," Shevtsova replied casually, "but I am finding the experience to be okay. We aren't cramped into a seat, the service is pretty good and so is the view."

"But seriously," Feodorovich leans forward and puts his hands on the table, "we're a part of the Russian Okeanitel Force. Shouldn't we at least be afforded to fly in a military jet?"

"Pfft," Sotnikov snorted, "we're not even a part of the force yet. We still have one year of frontline training left."

"How hard can that be?" asked Feodorovich, "It's just the same as what we did this year, right? But instead of fighting experienced Okeanitel commanders who've been kicking Abyssal ass, we're fighting Abyssals! Think about it, Abyssals are widely considered to be less intelligent than humans. Their IQ is about the same as a computer game character."

"But," Sotnikov retorted, "unlike the commanders, the Abyssals won't hold back. They will sink our ships. Of course, I am not concerned."

"Not concerned, she says," Shevtsova snorted, "we are being sent to the Northern Fleet, the frontlines of the Abyssal War. Not the Baltic Fleet, Pacific Fleet or Black Sea Fleet. No. We are going to the Northern Fleet. You know why? Because we have the most potential as far as the Imperial ships and navy officers could tell."

"Really?" Sotnikov asked, "I thought it was because I chose the North as my first preference."

Feodorovich almost spits out his tea while Shevtsova looked unimpressed.

"Girl," Feodorovich said, "you actually CHOSE the Northern Fleet?"

"Yeah," Sotnikov grinned, "because I am from the north. The first ship and Mental Model I encountered was that of K-21. I paid special attention to studying submarines and submarine tactics. We were good friends, until I had to go to a different school."

"I think you don't know just how dangerous the north is," Shevtsova shook his head, "you have to be very brave or very stupid to choose that as your first preference."

Sotnikov leaned forward, "Well then, Mr. Shevtsova, enlighten this very stupid or brave girl on why. And while you're here, tell me where the line is drawn between stupidity and courage?"

Shevtsova smirked, "As you know, the Russian Okeanitel Force is divided into the four fleets. The Black Sea Fleet, Northern Fleet, Baltic Fleet and Pacific Fleet. We've pushed most of the Abyssals out of Russian coastal water in all fleets."

"The Imperial Japanese Navy is holding the Sea of Japan and our side of the Pacific. The Unified European Navy has all the European seas locked down," Feodorovich added, "so the bases of the Black Sea Fleet, Baltic Fleet and the Pacific Fleet aren't frontline. Most of the Black Sea Fleet are concentrated in the Gulf of Aden and the Gulf of Oman. Too keep Abyssals away from the Suez Canal. Six Black Sea _Gnevny_ 's were given to China in return for their quantum radar."

"I know," Sotnikov said impatiently, "and I also know that a large portion of our Baltic and Pacific Fleets were transferred to the arctic region. What is your point?"

"But the bases of the Northern Fleet are smack bang on the frontline. The Arctic Abyssals are fighting strong and we've barely made progress," Shevtsova replied, "even with the transfer of majority of our ships into the north. Therefore, the Northern Fleet is widely considered as the most dangerous post. The Okeanitel and officers stationed there are the elite amongst the elite."

"So it's more dangerous," Sotnikov sniggered, waving the answer away, "like I didn't know that this job was dangerous. Listen, comrade, if I wanted to be safe, I'd just doll myself up, learn to clean, cook and suck dick. Then expect some Prince Charming to come and marry me and live happily ever after in a place far from the shore. Or joined some foreign force that treats their ships like precious dolls. I hear the Japanese even marry their Mental Models."

She leaned back and crossed her arms, "But that isn't what I want. Well, I wouldn't mind hooking up with Kalinin except he's in the Pacific. I want to kick the ass of these bastards. I chose the Northern Fleet because that is where the _K_ – class submarines are based. They are the best Okeanitel submarines and I specialize in submarines. And assuming K – 21 hasn't been sunk and rebuilt, we'd get along well. If jumping into the deep end is necessary, so be it. Besides, somebody has to do the dangerous shit, right?"

"You can say that again," Feodorovich laughed, "but be careful. The Soviet submarines suffered from huge casualties during the war. Things aren't going to be easy."

"Like I said," Sotnikov replied, "I was never doing this because I thought it is easy."

* * *

Eventually, the aircraft touched down at an airfield Severomorsk. Even though it was 1400 in local time, the sky is completely dark. The night is lit up by artificial lights. For in the north, the darkness can last for months, save for the moments when the northern lights put up their brilliant display.

"Phew," Sotnikov stretched, "back home at last."

"It's gonna be cold," Feodorovich said, "I mean, look how thick the snow is."

After some manoeuvring, the airliner was moved into position. The cadets carry some of their belongings with them when they disembark.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said a voice, presumably some air hostess, "we have touched down in Severomorsk. Thank you for flying with Aeroflot. He hope you have a good day."

"More like night," Feodorovich laughed, "and I am glad I put on the thick coat, because we're about to step into a town within the arctic circle in winter."

The cadets gathered the belongings they carried with them into the plane before shuffling towards the front exit. As the air hostess unlocked the door and slid it open, a blast of icy air rushed into the aircraft.

"Ha," Sotnikov exclaimed, "I remember the sensation of being hit by a wall of cold air."

"We're Russians," Shevtsova muttered, "this is something we are used to."

Almost as soon as the trio stepped out of the aircraft and into the passenger boarding stairs, the air hostess slammed the door behind them. She can't be blamed, because she only wore a blouse, a small jacket and a short skirt. As they descended the stairs, the sound of piston engines could be heard. A Petlyakov Pe-2 touched down on the runway touched down on the runway before slowing to a halt. The light twin engine bomber was built by fairies and piloted by fairies.

Conventional weapons are rarely used against Abyssals as they were believed to be useless. It wasn't completely true. The Chinese were the first to experiment with using conventional weapons. It was discovered that conventional platforms can be modified deliver fairy made munitions. Modern jet bombers can be made to drop fairy made bombs or torpedoes while being immune to Abyssal interception. Missiles have been tipped with fairy made artillery shells. However, jets and missiles are expensive, while the fairy made aircraft did not require any external resources. The American B-2 spirit, for example, costs upwards of a hundred thousand dollars to keep in the air for one hour. Human made jets also needed human pilots, who needed to be trained and paid. Fairies are born alongside equipment and disappear with their scrapping. Wages are also not needed.

"Hmm," Sotnikov looked around, "this airfield is much larger than I remember."

"It's like a museum," Feodorovich remarked, "of Russian aviation."

Sure enough, the airfield hosted a wide variety of fairy and human aircraft. The most recognisable are the Ilyushin Il-2. The heavily armored ground attack aircraft was given an almost legendary status, though its real effectiveness was always doubted. Indeed, its heavy armor meant that it only carried a small bomb load and the aircraft generally had poor accuracy due to its bomb sight. But against targets as large as warships, the accuracy wasn't much of an issue. Regardless, the Pe-2 was a better option under most circumstances.

Yakovlev Yak-3's were also present. With a high power-to-weight ratio, the aircraft is an excellent dogfighter, easily a match for Abyssal aircraft. The fighter was also respected by shipgirls of other nations despite being hampered by its short range and engine reliability issues. Its excellent capabilities are a far cry from the aircraft built by fairies earlier in the war.

Nearby, modern Sukhoi jets sat on the tarmac. Su-34's to be precise. The aircraft is massive compared to the fairy built aircraft, but is far more capable. With twelve hardpoints on the wings and fuselage able to carry between 17600 to 26500 pounds of munitions, it far outclasses the fairy made aircraft in capacity. It is also much faster, immune to interception by fighter and anti-aircraft fire. Alas, with high operating costs, it is limited to attacking Princess and Demon level Abyssals.

"Well then," Sotnikov says, "why don't we head over to the terminal? It's gotta be warmer in there."

"Yeah," Feodorovich nodded towards the other people who were on the flight with them, "they are already on their way."

* * *

Unbeknownst to the cadets, a camera watched them as they headed towards the terminal. A man in the Okeanitel Force observed them through a screen. He is situated inside the fortified complex of Severomorsk Naval Base, in his personal office. Unlike the offices of foreign returned ship forces, which are often decorated with wall paper, high quality floorboards and good furniture, his is almost bare bones. Concrete floors and steel walls made up his interior, while a large armored desk and a fairy built Berezin UB made up the furniture. A few posters of Imperial Russian ship are attached to the wall, albeit heavily covered in graffiti. The culprits were, as usual, Rezvyy and Ryanyy. Fed up with their shit, the navy sold them to China instead of Bezuprechny and Boiky years ago, with four other Black Sea _Gnevny's_. A polar bear hide hung from a wall, its head completely smashed in. The doing of Sovetsky Soyuz, who killed the attacking creature with a single blow to the head and pulverizing the skull in the process. A testimony to the "stronkness" of the Russian Okeanitel Force.

The man's shoulder and sleeve insignias indicate he is of Admiral rank. The man himself is aged, appearing to be in his fifties or sixties, judging by his silver hair and beard. His steel colored eyes are cold and hard, for they belonged to a man who has seen much. The scar running down his face testified that he also went through much. He may be of a similar age to men who would spend time with their grandchildren or play golf, but he has never done that. Admiral Alexis Ochakov does not have time to waste on such trivial things, for he is a commander of the Russian Northern Fleet.

The man scrutinized the screen carefully, until a knock at the door causes him to look up.

"Come in," Admiral Ochakov said.

The door clicks before being pushed open. Another man walks in. He is much younger, appearing to be twenty or so. Yet he carried the insignias of a Counter Admiral. It is a rank that few men aged twenty can attain. Then and again, the Counter Admiral isn't a man.

"Welcome back," Ochakov said, "Izmail."

Izmail is the Mental Model of _Izmail_ , the lead ship of the _Izmail_ – class battlecruisers. In his remodeled form, he is an aircraft carrier. Standing at over two metres tall with a muscular build, he is very intimidating. Not as much as the Mental Models of the _Kronshtadt_ – class or _Sovetsky Soyuz_ – class, but very imposing nonetheless. He carried a stern expression, which made his blue eyes appear darker than they really were. Yet they carried a faintly luminescent quality. Not as strong as the eye glow of the Abyssals, but not so faint that it cannot be seen.

Izmail salutes before continuing, "The cadets have arrived, Admiral."

"I am aware of that," Ochakov nodded, "I have been anticipating their arrival."

"Only three?" asked Izmail, "With the exception of Romanov, no-one has passed the training in a decade. And to make matters worse, Romanov has gone rogue, taking several powerful ships with him. To make matters worse, we need that particular skill of his."

"Tch," Ochakov spat, "do not talk to me about him. That man is a menace."

"Have we scared potential candidates away?" asked Izmail.

"Unlikely," Ochakov turns off his screen and faces Izmail, "your condition is currently stable. It is also not something the officers and Imperial Russian Mental Models teach about."

The atmosphere in the room suddenly changed. It was as if the air had suddenly thickened.

"Please don't do that in here," Ochakov coughed, "save that for the land Abyssals you see in your next amphibious assault."

Izmail exhaled, relaxed his body and the air returned to normal.

"I am sorry," Izamil said, "it is just that the Imperial Russians are so worthless. I wonder why they are doing the training. What do those bourgeoisie battleships know about war? The last time they got into one, they got their asses handed to them. Even now, they do little except sit in Saint Petersburg and enjoy the security provided by our Baltic Fleet."

"Ha!" Ochakov laughed, "You really dislike the Imperials, don't you?"

"Not all of them," Izmail shook his head, "Rurik is respectable. He may be of an obsolete design, but he is still capable and never gives anything less than his best."

They paused for a moment.

"Shall I go and greet the cadets?" asked Izmail.

"Yes," Ochakov smirked, "but don't be too harsh on them."

"I'll try not to," Izmail leaves the office, "emphasis on try."

* * *

The cadets waited in the terminal of the airport. The fairies have taken their luggage from the jet and given it to them in the terminal. That's when Shevtsova noticed a man in navy uniform walking towards him. Easily seven feet, well-muscled under his uniform and wearing very little given the current temperature. Doubtlessly a Mental Model of some Okeanitel.

"He's here," Feodorovich said.

"Greetings, newbies, and welcome to the Severomorsk Naval Complex," the Mental Model said, "I am Izmail, secretary of Admiral Alexis Ochakov. I am here to escort you to him."

Sotnikov suddenly snapped to attention and saluted. The Mental Model and other two cadets looked at her.

"As you were," Izmail said, "cadet Sotnikov."

Sotnikov lowered her arm.

"Why did you salute?" asked Feodorovich.

"Can't you see his insignias?" asked Sotnikov in return, "Because they are telling me he is a counter Admiral."

"Indeed," Izmail said, "I am a Counter Admiral. Unlike the rather laid back forces of other nations, the Russian Okeanitel Force is the only one that functions like a professional military."

"But is seems you have forgotten that we are in a public space," Shevtsova interrupted, "and saluting is inappropriate."

"He is right," Izmail nodded, "but come on, I'll take you to your quarters to drop off your stuff. Then we'll go and meet the Admiral."

* * *

Izmail drove through the streets of Severomrosk in a BA-10 with the three cadets. The six wheeled armored scout car was the most produced Soviet pre-1941 armored car and saw service as a heavy scout until being replaced by T-60s and T-70s. Currently, small amounts are produced by fairies as transport within bases.

"Man," Feodorovich said, "this is pretty cool."

"Really?" asked Izmail, "I think the modern armored vehicles are way more awesome. The T-14 Armartas are badass. Good thing Russian tanks now protect their crew well. In my day, they were to be mass produced to being nearly expendable. We didn't really care about crew safety."

As they approached the end of the street, an orange blur flashed across the headlights. Izmail slammed on the brakes, but the momentum carried the BA-10 forward by several metres and crashed into it. The figure as sent flying as a 5.14 ton vehicle crashed into it at forty kilometres per hour. It tumbled several metres away. As it stopped moving, it was revealed to be a girl with black hair in a short orange dress.

"Shit!" Shevtsova said, "We hit someone!"

"Oh, she'll be fine," Izmail said casually, "a Kanmusu won't die that easily."

"Kanmusu?" Sotnikov asked as she tried to take a look, "She is a Japanese ship?"

The figure in the middle of the road staggered to her feet before shouting, "Night Battle!"

"Excuse me," Izmail said, "let me deal with this."

He floors the accelerator, causing the car to accelerate forward. Before the figure could respond, Izmail knocked her over before driving over her and rolling over her with the left wheels of the BA-10.

"Why did you do that!?" demanded Sotnikov, "She can't possibly survive-"

"I told you, she would be fine," Izmail said casually, "ah, we're here."

Izmail turns off the engine and hops off the armored car. As soon as Sotnikov got off, she turned to look at the Kanmusu.

"There will be a night battle!" she shouted as she stood up.

"Wha-" Sotnikov muttered, "who is that?"

"That is the Japanese light cruiser Sendai," Izmail said, "and she will be with us for the winter. Because she is obsessed with night battles of course. And here in the north, the darkness can last months. Sendai can be a huge pain in the ass though, constantly screaming 'NIGHT BATTLE!' and generally being a nuisance of a caliber rivalling Ryanyy and Rezvyy. If she wasn't so good at night battles, we'd refuse transfer requests from the Japanese. All we can do is wait for the winter months to pass."

"You were pretty certain that she'd be fine," Shevtsova watched the retreating figure of Sendai, "how did you know?"

"Ha, ha," Izmail laughed, something he rarely did, "well, if Ryanyy can survive an IS-2 heavy tank rolling over him, I don't see how Sendai can't take a BA-10. Anyway, we have arrived at the headquarters. Follow me."

"I have a feeling that shit just got real," Shevtsova shook his head, "and I thought the Naval Infantry officers were strict."

"Yeah," Sotnikov looked to Izmail, who entered the massive bunker before them, "I just hope we can survive this year."


End file.
